Okay, I'm going to be honest, even at the risk of sounding like a complaining pregnant woman...
I'm feeling it. For the first time in three pregnancies, I am feeling it. Me versus the stairs? The stairs win every time, even when there's just four of them. Me versus loading/unloading the washer and dryer. I lose. Standing for too long? I'm aching and needing to sit down. Sitting for too long? My legs fall asleep and I need to stand up.
This never happened before. At least, I don't remember it. It has been almost four years.
With Elsie, I left work on maternity leave five weeks before my due date (one of those weeks was spring break), and she came a week early. So, things got less stressful (and believe me, work was very stressful, which is why I left so early) at 35 weeks, and I cruised into her difficult 27-hour delivery at 39 weeks with little stress and lots of heartburn--my only pregnancy complaint.
With Oscar, I had the whole summer, went back to work for a week, and then he came on his due date (40 weeks) in just a couple of hours. I wasn't on my feet all day, as a general rule; it wasn't the height of allergy season. I mean, I did have to chase around a 12-15-month-old during the summer, and we moved to a new house, etc., etc., but all in all it was a pretty laid back summer. From what I remember, I felt good--so good, I was pretty sure I was going to go to work about four hours before Oscar was born. My only complaint during that pregnancy? The heartburn.
So, for whatever reason, I hit the 33-week mark this time (now I'm at 34 weeks), and it's not the same. I don't feel great, but I don't feel terrible. Mostly I'm just feeling blah. Easily winded. Very little stamina. With lots of heartburn (go figure). I'm still at work. It's not even April yet. But it is allergy season. And I have two preschoolers to keep up with when I'm not keeping up with my 100+ teenagers. I have six weeks or so left to go. Six. Long. Weeks.
Believe me when I say that it doesn't help when people say, "You're not going to make it to your due date." Am I huge? Not really. I've seen the picture where we took right before we left for the hospital with Oscar, and it appears I have quite a bit of room to grow yet. Do I look beat down? Because I'm seriously trying to put on a happy face. People at work have even commented on the spring in my step (at least until I get to the top of the stairs). I'm actually afraid that this baby will take this assertion that I'm not going to make it as a challenge to cook a little longer. Please baby, do not go past 40 weeks. Please.
All this to say that I need your prayers. I covet your prayers--for whatever you think I need during this time. Patience? Endurance? Stamina? Reassurance? Easy access to antacids? Any of that and much, much more.
Thank you, friends.